


Gone Reborn

by RosesandCrosses



Category: Gone Series - Michael Grant
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 07:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11054283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesandCrosses/pseuds/RosesandCrosses
Summary: 10 years has past since the ending of the FAYZ. They have moved on. They had learned to live again - but they had never forgotten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> So basically I wrote this story about 3 years ago on FanFiction.com and came across it a few months ago and decided to do a re-write. However, FF.com is acting strange and it's not updating properly, so I thought I would throw it over here too.  
> you guys should jump over to my tumblr too @Jessika7979 or use the #Gone Reborn because i love making little gif things for each chapter.  
> Well, that's about it! Please R&R if you can and thanks for everyone who has send kind messages already!  
> xx Jay

Sam couldn’t be exactly sure what woke him.

 It might have been the slight breeze that was rolling in from the window above his bed. The soft colder air made the hairs on Sam’s arm stand up and he found himself reaching for the blanket almost instantly. Years of living in the baking sun of California had made him irritable to even the slightest drop in temperature, a pet peeve that irked Sam to no end.

  
  However, it could have been the empty void that now filled the bed. Lying on his back with his eyes still closed, Sam stretched his left arm to reach the source of heat that was usually radiation heat to him in times of need. Yet no amount of patting around the mattress could deny the fact that the petite blonde was noticeably missing from the bed.

  
Despite all this, Sam concluded it was probably the loud banging noises that was coming from downstairs that jolted him from sleep.

  
Whatever the reason, Sam was awake. After turning over to try and induce himself back into the blissful land of dreams and sleep, he accepted that his efforts were futile. His mind had already started to think about all the things he had to do today. He had a habit of making mental lists before he started for the day, it tended to clear the clutter and set him straight when he would otherwise be distracted. That was another tendency of his.

  
  Finally deciding to venture out of the bed, Sam grabbed a loose jumper that was draped over the chair beside his desk. He then stood on the bed, grunting and closed the window. While he walked down the stairs he asked himself why they even had that window. It was hard to get to and when they opened it in the evening before they went to sleep, they always forgot to close it, resulting in a restless and somewhat cranky morning Sam.

  
  When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he soon realised what the source of the loud noises was. Turning left he could see smoke rising from a pan on the stove while the tap was looking dangerously close to overflowing. His girlfriend was wearing running leggings and a purple workout top that was loosely tucked into the hem of her trousers. She had her hair tied back in a pony-tail and wore her glasses that she only put on when she was working. The mass amount of papers spread out on the kitchen’s island and the pen stuck behind her ear, told Sam that she was attempting to multitask, something she wasn’t particularly skilled at, especially when it came to cooking.

  
It wasn’t that she was a particularly bad cook, it was just that she had to really concentrate on the task if she was to make it anyway successful.

  
  Sam laughed to himself and could feel the tension easing from his shoulders as he watched Astrid run around the kitchen desperately trying to control all the elements of breakfast. He walked around the island and turned down the heat on the stove, then he turned off the tap and closed the fridge which looked like it had been left open for a while given the lightbulb on the inside was flashing.

  
Astrid, not realising he had arrived, continued to fret at the oven trying to re-set the timer, but miserably failing, so he wasn’t particularly surprised when she jumped slightly as he put his hands on her shoulders. She laughed lightly as he reached around her to set the timer and then stepped into him as he pulled back and wrapped his arms around her.

  
“Thank you, I’m a complete mess.”

  
“You can say that again.” Sam said as he reached his thumb to her cheek and wiped a streak of black oven grease that went from her chin to her cheek. She turned then shifted her body so that her chest was flushed against his and her head could rest on his shoulder. “What are you in such a rush to finish?”

  
She groaned. “Presentation I have to give to the Baker client on Monday. I think I’d rather cook for the whole company than this to be honest.”

  
“I highly doubt that.” He spoke as he leaned down to look at her and found her scowling. “You really hate cooking.”

  
At that she broke out in a grin and laughed into his shoulder. “Think about Bora Bora, think about Bora Bora!” Astrid mumbled while reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

  
“Yeah” Sam said, trying to sound nonchalant, but more coming out as uneasy. Unlike Astrid, Bora Bora was the source of stress and anxiety for him. He had been nagging her to book a holiday for nearly a year and when she finally agreed a little over a month before, he decided to put in motion the plan he had been thinking about for years. Yet, that was harder than Sam originally thought it would be. Sneaking around behind Astrid’s back was harder than trying to get passed the CIA at times. She took care of the financial books of the house, which meant spending money on supposed, “luxuries” was hard to do without it coming up on a bank account or a statement.

  
Sam had many sleepless nights worrying that the bank he specifically told not to call, would indeed call. If Astrid answered the phone and realised that Sam had a separate bank account which was providing funds to support his plan, the whole surprise would be ruined and once she found out he was keeping secrets from her, he would be forced to tell her.

  
It was also anxiety- inducing knowing that the hotel could call or e-mail confirming his alteration to their room on the second night of their stay. The alteration being to make sure the hotel could provide dinner for the room and candles along the windows.

  
Mixed in with the normal stress and anxiety that came with waiting for Astrid’s answer, Sam was a bag of nerves. If he was honest, he couldn’t wait for the holiday to be over. Then, regardless of what happened abroad, he could relax knowing it was over and he could stop sneaking around.

  
“I have bad news by the way.” Astrid said, pulling Sam out of his day dream and leaning back on so that his hand automatically came up to rest on her waist. “We have to have dinner with Kate on Wednesday.”

  
“Oh no, Astrid come on. You said that last time was the last time.” He began to take his arms away from her waist, but she reached behind and pulled his arms back to their original position, then rested her hands on top of his own.  
“I know, I know, but I have to kiss up to her a bit for a while. She has amazing connections.”

  
Kate was Astrid’s new boss of about six months. Extremely smart woman with an amazing worth ethic that Sam could only both envy and admire. Astrid knew that for the first while, she would have to make sure she was on Kate’s good side if she was to advance in the ways she wanted to. Along with the new position, Kate had moved states with her husband Paul and they found themselves with few friends. Unfortunately for Sam, Astrid had offered to take them out for dinner one night which in turn led to the most boring night of his life. Paul was only twenty-seven, but had little to no personality, didn’t like any sports and had a distaste for anything less than luxury. He would always scowl when walking into the lowkey restaurant Sam or Astrid had chosen, but insist he was fine when asked. Sam was fairly confident he wouldn’t be seeing them again yet, Paul seemed to like Sam. In fact, he liked Sam so much that they had been out to dinner with them eight times in the last three months.

  
“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” As Astrid spoke, she stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to Sam’s. She pulled back quickly, but dragged her hands from where they rested on top of his, up his arms until they reached his neck and then let them tangle into his hair. He took that as an invitation to lean down and kiss her again. When he deepened the kiss by opening his mouth and dragging his tongue over her bottom lip, he was rewarded with a groan that coursed right through him like an electricity bolt. This spurred him on to reach down and place is hands on the back of her thighs and when she didn’t protest, he lifted her so she was sitting on top of the island. The movement caused her papers to fall off the side of the countertop, but neither of them seemed to notice or care and made no attempt to stop. He then placed one hand behind her back and other on her calf, urging her to wrap her leg around his waist as she raked her hands down his shoulders. He could feel the atmosphere getting more and more tense as each moment passed and he reached up to tug on the hem of her workout leggings.

  
But before he could advance any further, he heard the doorbell ring. He groaned in annoyance and felt her smile into the kiss. He pulled back reluctantly and cursed himself for moving when she jumped down almost immediately, indicating that she wasn’t going to wait for him to come back. Instead she pat him on the shoulder and pushed him towards the door, then seemed to stop as she looked down to take in his appearance.

  
“God Sam, you could put some trousers on.” She said as she looked him up and down and saw finally acknowledged the fact his was only in his boxer’s and the flimsy jumper he had thrown on.

  
“Nah, not really my style.” He said with a grin and popped a grape into his mouth. Breakfast didn’t look like it was going to be made any time soon, so he thought he might as well start planning something else to eat.

  
When he got to the door, he could see through the panes of glass that no one was standing outside. He opened the door and stepped out to see if he could see the person in their driveway or possibly up the road, but when he looked left and right, all he could see was empty streets and his neighbour, Arnold, mowing the lawn.

  
“Letterbox I think, Sam! Left in a bit of a rush too.” Arnold shouted over the sound of the lawn-mover.

  
“Thanks Arnold.” He shouted back as he moved down his drive to reach his letterbox, which did indeed contain something. Sam was at this point vaguely aware that he was only in his underwear, but if Arnold minded, he didn’t show it. Sam guessed he was probably use to it living in such a young neighbourhood. In fact, Arnold, in his early 40s, and his wife Betty, of the same age, were probably the oldest residence in the block by about ten years. Also, the fact that Sam had little regard for clothing in general meant Arnold was probably used to it especially because he lived next door to him.

  
Smiling to himself at the thought, Sam reached into the letterbox and found one, crisp white letter with a red ribbon holding it together. It was addressed to both himself and Astrid, which was rare and looked as if it didn’t come with the other mail.

  
“Too Clean” Sam thought out loud and wandered back into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew he needed to buy a new car when he crashed it into a pole last year. The bumper was smashed and the front lights only worked if he banged them with a baseball bat before he got into it. It was a 1994 land rover which he had gotten it for a steal at an auction nearly eight years ago, and he loved it. He loved it so much that he refused to let nearly anyone else drive it. It was his second baby and he liked to think he had a connection to the car that ran deeper than just steel and man. This car held so many memories for him.

Fragments of memories came back to him all at once as he drove down the highway towards the town. Excitement of finally being free to go where ever he wanted, loving warnings from his mother out the passenger window to be safe, nervous smiles on a first date, laughter as she tried, unsuccessfully, to climb over the console into his lap and trying to drive as slow as he could to make sure he didn’t hit any pot-holes the first day they brought the tiniest and most precious thing in their lives home.

Quinn tried to push them memories away nearly as fast as they emerged. They all led to the same place. Pain.

Everyone had told Quinn he was too young to get married. How could he possibly know what he wanted for the rest of his life when he was only nineteen years old, so young and inexperienced in the world. His mother had begged him to just wait until he was even legally allowed to drink before he made a lifelong commitment to a girl he had only met a year prior.

But Quinn had convinced himself that they just didn’t understand. How could they possibly understand?

Rebecca was the first person who didn’t look at him like he was damaged goods. She didn’t ask questions like, “How did you survive that place?” or say outlandish statements like “You must consider yourself really lucky to be alive”. What kind of question is that? Of course, he considered himself lucky, but only as lucky as a person who survives a motor accident does. It was a disaster, he could disagree, but it was a disaster he had been ready to let go of the second it ended and was met with a world who wanted to relive It ever second of every day.

Except her.

She didn’t want to grill him or make money off him or manipulate him. She just wanted to be with him and experience him for who he really was. She asked questions like “What do you want to achieve in life?” and the only outlandish statement she ever made was her declaration of love for him that Quinn could just not believe.  

The whirlwind that was their relationship seemed to just keep giving and giving. One year turned into a proposal, a proposal turned into a wedding, wedding turned into marriage and finally marriage turned into something that even Quinn didn’t expect this fast. Parenthood.

No matter what become of his marriage and relationship with Rebecca, Greg, his now five-year-old son, would be the shining light that continued to make his life worth it.

Quinn decided to direct his attention to that very thought.

He thought about how excited his meek voice was on the phone last night when he told him he would be there to collect him from school.

_“No way. Really?” He had asked over the line at a time far too late for him to be awake._

_“Yeah mate, you better be ready for all the fun we are going to have.”_

_“Can we go to the park straight after school?”_

_Quinn shook his head and laughed lightly as he sat in his cold and empty apartment, clinging onto every sound his son made, as if it was the only warmth that could heat the entire room. This wouldn’t last long and he knew it, so he needed to take full advantage of every second of it._

_“You bet pal, maybe we can even go to the movies if you’re really, really good.” He was met with a giggle that made Quinn’s smile grow wider, if that was even possible._

_“I’m always good!”_

_“That’s my boy.” He hesitated before speaking again, knowing he shouldn’t make the comment but knowing he was going to do it anyway. “I hope you are good for your mum all the time too.”_

_“Obviously!” Greg almost shouted back in a playful humour, but he was drowned out by a fit of awkward feminine coughing and then a string of light mumbles that Quinn couldn’t quite make out, but knew what that they were once Greg let out an annoyed sigh and said, “Aw but I want to talk to daddy!”_

_“No Greg, your mum is right. It’s way passed your bedtime too.”_

They hadn’t actually spoken, they never did these days.

Greg said goodbye and had hung up the phone himself.

Yet, maybe that was exactly what they needed. Distance and time healed the heart, but Quinn couldn’t stop the thought that it just made his grow founder.

****

Chocolate slime ran down the boy’s chin and was dropping onto his hands, jumper and grey trousers. As Quinn looked down at the boy’s school uniform, he noted to himself that the legs of the trousers were an inch or two too long for his son and he could see the slight tears that were appearing due to the fact that his shoes would constantly lean on them while walking. This reminded Quinn that although his son was nearly six years old, he was well below average height, just like his mother. However, if he got his height from his mother, he got nearly everything else from his father. His light brown hair, his chestnut brown eyes and even his overactive personality that Quinn had at that age, all came directly from his DNA.

It was one of the most fascinating things Quinn had ever seen. Seeing a person who is half of you, grown into a completely separate person. Of all the things he had seen in his life, this was defiantly the most magical.

They sat on a park bench in the California sun as Greg ate his ice cream and swung his little legs over the side. Quinn had pulled his sleeves up in an effort to protect the uniform from complete bombshell of Greg attempting to eat anything. However, as he started to lick the ice cream down to nothing, he persisted on stopping to talk every time he remembered something he hadn’t told his dad yet. Which was a lot. This caused the treat to melt before Greg could even make a substantial effort to eat it, but Quinn couldn’t find it in him to tell him to stop. He was completely transfixed on the boy as he excited told him details about his day to day life that Quinn found he knew little about.

The guilt that ripped through him at that realisation was heart wrenching for him.

He wanted to be there every day when he woke up, or when he got home from school, or when he needed to be held because a nightmare had scared him out of sleep.

But the simple fact was that he wasn’t there, at least not anymore.

Rebecca had picked Greg up and moved him half way across the state in an effort to distance herself from him. That along with the bizarre visitation rights (or lack of) he was given, made it that Quinn was lucky is he saw Greg once every three weeks.

“And then I told him that my dad could kick his ass!” Greg said loudly with the sense of pride that poured out of him every time he spoke about his father, or more appropriately to him, his hero.

“Greg!” Quinn muttered lowly as he tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Fearing he had done something wrong, Greg immediately reacted with a defensive, “What?” Then quietly followed by “you could.”

“I know but we shouldn’t say it out loud.”

This immediately returned the sharp smile to his son’s face as Quinn finally decided to take the half-melted ice cream away from him and attempted to wipe the chocolate remnants that were smeared all over the young boy. 

When he asked could he go back to the swings for a while, Quinn happily agreed and then watched his son run himself into exhaustion for another hour and half.

_He’ll sleep well tonight,_ Quinn thought to himself just before Greg tugged at his leg in a request to be carried. Before he had reached the car, he was passed out asleep with lose arms around his neck and his head on his shoulder. Quinn could feel soft snores on the side of his neck and he reached up to cradle a small head as he placed his son in the car seat that was securely strapped down into the back of the Land Rover.

Closing the door as lightly as he could as to not wake the sleeping child, Quinn noticed a flicker of white on the front windshield.

_Damn it_ , Quinn thought. _It must be a parking ticket._


End file.
